


Admire the Living and Envy the Dead

by scottlang



Series: J. Howlett [1]
Category: Logan (2017) - Fandom, Wolverine (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Logan (2017), Major Spoilers, Other, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottlang/pseuds/scottlang
Summary: The last breath always is filled with emotion: regret, guilt, happiness, anger, disappointment, envy, despair. The Wolverine has lived a life full of regrets and yet, still has remained a stubborn prick until the end. But Laura has left him feeling something he has not felt in a long time: hope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for Logan, do proceed with caution if you have not seen it yet! Also, mentions of suicide and some gore.

        Regret; it was a horrid feeling, one that could consume every waking moment if one allowed for its existence. A plethora of regrets can become unbearable, as it was known to drive many to overwhelming madness and rage. But what began was utter, deafening silence within the mutant’s mind. The caws of birds, the scurrying of fauna and the rustling of foliage ceased to exist within his consciousness. Nothing was felt, nothing was heard, and the nothingness beckoned for Logan to join it. Haggard eyes gazed up through the canopy of the forest, a breath escaping his chapped lips. The glare of the sun in between branches and leaves brought spots to Logan’s eyes, though he could not decipher if he was losing consciousness or not. The wind had been knocked from his body and the older mutant began to gasp for air. Feeling nothing is pure in itself; there is no regret, no pain, no harm is done in this state. It had almost been the single most blissful moment he had felt in decades.

        Then, the sharpness began. The realization of having been impaled onto the branch of a fallen tree struck him, and he howled in agony. His thoughts raced to reality as he saw the clone of his DNA standing above him, readying himself for a horrible, final attack. The jagged branch had split through his intestines and against his spine, leaving a horrible vibration of pain in his abdomen. Blood seeped through his tattered clothing, his healing factor beginning to falter. Logan pressed his palms against the tree trunk, ignoring the prickling of splinters as he tried to remove himself from the spike, but his energy was slowly decreasing. The cuts and open wounds across his aching body would not heal, and every movement he made simply struck him with more agony.

        Since he had overdosed on the serum, (despite the young mutants warning him not to), the Wolverine’s body began to slowly shut down. The poison of the adamantium encasing his skeleton had finally won. As he aged, he could feel the unwanted skeleton becoming more harmful to his health, but he had set it aside to move onto things in the present. He regretted this decision, obviously, but Logan had always felt incapable of accepting help. Shutting his eyes, his body slumped against the curvature of the fallen tree, his war with his healing factor coming to an end.

        All his life, he had tangled between war and peace. Both situations left the veteran worn, torn and distraught, though his stubbornness powered through these feelings. It created a façade for Logan to hide behind. It was easier to deal with consequences at a later date, or so he believed, until everything came crashing down upon him. The mutant had forced himself into a rut for so long. Death had not seemed like a feasible option until he remembered the bullet. The singular molded adamantium bullet had a special place on his person; his front, right pocket, where his dominate hand could easily reach it. But the realization came faster than his memory could recall. As flashes of screeching pain shot up his sides, he readied himself for a final blow from the clone, eyes squeezing together as he began accepting his fate.

        He was going to die.

        The moment his thoughts started morphing and slurring together, a loud shot echoed through his skull. Using every ounce of strength he had left, Logan forced his eyes open to stare up at the mutilated corpse of his clone, half of the feral beast’s skull having been shattered. X-24 was missing a large portion of his cranium. Brains and blood had splattered onto the ground, and the older mutant shifted his gaze to the one holding the gun.

        “Laura. . .” He exhaled, wincing at the effort it took to spit out his daughter’s name.

        “No, no, no, no, _no_. . .” Dropping the gun, the girl ran to Logan’s side, gripping his hand as tightly as she could. Whimpers exited the young girl's mouth, the wounds upon her tiny frame having already healed. Fresh blood decorated the girl's attire, Logan feeling somewhat proud of how defensive Laura could be. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, mumbling for her father to stop dying.

        “Listen to me,” Logan coughed, returning the grip of the young mutant’s hand. She did not want him to leave her, she was only just a child. “Take your friends and run. . . They'll keep coming, and coming. . . You don't have to fight _anymore_.”

        His palm, coated with crimson, took her small hand in his and squeezed. Logan could feel her not wanting to let go, never wanting to let go, she had finally found someone who _understood_ her pain and he was dying. His vision was clouding up, but he kept his gaze upon his daughter, despite wanting desperately to wipe her tears away and telling her that it would be okay. He did not want to lie anymore. 

        “Go. . .  _Don’t_ be what they’ve made you.”

        Her heart was broken. She had lost her mother, the only person who had made her feel human, and now she was losing her father. 

        “Laura. . .” Another cough escaped the mutant, his grip on her palm lessening with every breath. 

        “ _Daddy_. . .” Wrapping her short arms around his large figure, Laura’s sobs echoed through the silent forest. Her fellow mutant friends, of whom had scattered from the danger earlier came to watch the exchange between the father and daughter.

        “So, this is what it feels like. . .” The words left his lips slowly as his grip on Laura’s hand lessened, the agony being released from his body. He took his final moments to stare into her chocolate eyes, a short laugh leaving his lungs. His vision became blank as Logan's head tilted to the side, limply hanging within Laura's arms. 

        The pain subsided immensely, and the old mutant could feel himself exiting his body. It was the only place where he truly felt trapped. In a way, it was pure, utter relief for him to finally be leaving this world. They always said on the verge of death, one would see their life flashing before their eyes. He remembered the X-Men, fellow mutant brethren who valiantly aided the Wolverine throughout many missions. He thought of Kurt Wagner, him being one of the closest friends he had. He dreamed of Charles, a stinging sensation building up in his chest. Logan deserved to die, not Charles. But his thoughts then turned to Laura, and he hoped that she would heed his advice and would not make the same mistakes he had. Life was fucking unfair, and he wished for his _daughter_  to begin her own legacy, one without guilt, regret and especially pain.

        The last sounds he heard were of Laura’s sobs, and the world began to slowly fade to blissful nothingness. 


End file.
